Make You Feel My Love
by Mugzie
Summary: Santana Lopez was living the life she had always hoped for in New York. The college life, free agent, and pretty girls at her beck and call… but an abrupt flash from her past named Sebastian Smythe reappears in her life but only a shadow of his former self. Sometimes you need to reach down and help another person up as they need not be ashamed to reach out for that hand. SEBTANA
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

**Chapter One**

* * *

Perfectly content.

This was something that Santana had finally achieved since leaving Lima, Ohio. She was sure she'd die premature from high blood pressure if she stayed there, she pitied those retards that founded it in 1831… they should have packed their shit and rolled out of there without a second glance. Sitting in café enjoying some vanilla bean macchiato where they even shaped the foam into a heart, was way better than anything in Lima. Well, she recanted, Lima wasn't all that lame.

Brittany Pierce came out of Lima. The only person Santana loved and her best friend. She let out a soft huff of air and decided to not dampen the mood with her somber ass thoughts. They broke up, well sort of, but agreed to still work on them. That was fine for her, so much of the Big Apple to explore and many women to get into. It was just to keep her occupied until things worked out.

That's when Big Mouth Billy Bass seemed to step in to fill up her absence for Brit-Brit. Santana dated Sam before, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't jealous.

She shook off these thoughts and brought the mug back to her lips, took a sip before scanning the crowd of people she shared this space with. There weren't many people inside here today though she didn't make it a habit to be here too often. Checking her phone for the time; she polished the last sip of her caffeinated drink, brought out her wallet and paid for macchiato… hell she even tipped well. She was expected to have some phone time with Blaine, as he was serving as her eyes and ears on Brittany. The ex-warbler stayed with the New Directions after he graduated (lord did they need him) and worked as a vocal coach as he was also actively involved in community theatre. He did have college plans but wanted to stay for a little while.

That's when her phone rang as she was flagging a cab and it seemed that Blaine was calling her right on time. She looked up at the street and gave up for a moment.

"Sup Twinkerbell, this better be important that I had to reschedule a hair appointment for." She was looking at her hair, her hair fell in waves but she was indeed due for another appointment for a trim.

"Hey San… I'm sure your hair is fine. It was kind of important so I needed to ask you something." She could hear some worry in his voice and that was unusual. That struck up a bit of concern. "I've been talking to some old Dalton friends of mine and I worried about Sebastian."

The Latina thought for a long moment. Sebastian, the name was vaguely familiar.

"Sebastian Smythe?" She asked and then furrowed her brows.

"Who else do we know named Sebastian, Sannie?" He said dryly.

Sebastian Smythe she hadn't seen that kid in some time. Last time she checked he was a self absorbed asshole but he was tolerable when not being a man stealing ass-hat. She remembered their exchange in the Lima Bean the first time, the duet, and of course the "Blaine Incident".

"Wait a minute, Sebastian the Warbler? Why should you care? He tried to turn you into a gay pirate and was trying to get all in your pants."

"That's behind us," He dismissed. "All I know is that Sebastian called me and he sounded… not himself. He's in New York, you're in New York. Can you just check on him?" Santana pulled her phone from her ear and stared at the screen, as if she were trying to project the look on her face through the receiver.

"No can do, Orville Redenbacher." She brought it back to her ear. "Me and meerkat face are not that close. Can't you ask Rachael to do it?"

"Rachael will tell Kurt and I can't ask Kurt because he hates Bast. You are the only one I can really ask."

"I can't. I'm busy… all week." She made up some feeble excuse. "I have dates and tests and shit."

"If you don't do this for me, I'm not going to give you details on Brit anymore." And from the sound in his voice he had played his card, it came out confident and it took her by surprise that Blaine Anderson would use Blackmail against HER.

"Touché, Blainey… I'm surprised at you." Her full lips quirked up into a smirk, though she was a little bit pissed… this was kind of pleasant coming from such a goodie-goodie wonder boy. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

He pressed his fingers against cool keys and felt the icy chill sweep up his arms. To him it felt like it chilled his very core. He sat at his black baby grand piano playing Chopin's Nocturne, rather upbeat for the mood he was currently in. Eyes drifted close and fingers stroked keys, he lost himself to the beautiful sound that poured out of the tips of his fingers.

But his hands trembled and he struck a sour note. This caused the man to frown, slam the lid over the keys and he stared at his trembling fingers, this shake he couldn't control. He looked over into his kitchen before slinking into said room. He poured himself a glass of distilled water and leaned against the counter as he gulped it down. He could feel the shaky feeling beginning to subside. He was sick, and getting progressively worse. At least before he could hide it at Dalton, he wasn't nearly as tired.

Sebastian wasn't the type to admit such a vital flaw and imperfection. In high school, his Wilson's disease was manageable. He just had to drink water and stay away from certain foods; he bruised easily so he made sure to talk his mad shit from a far. Any bruises from dancing were easily covered in his uniform.

It wasn't until later that these hand tremors began. This wouldn't have been so bad if they weren't partnered with fatigue and muscle stiffness. Sebastian had song and dance pumping through his veins. Now some days he couldn't even get out of bed, some days where he was swept up in delirium that sent him curling up and clutching himself at night.

And the one noticeable thing that people began to notice, the jaundice that showed up on the palms of his hands, nail beds, and a little in his eyes and the brown ring that formed around his irises. Once a vibrant green now tainted with brown. He was scared of how much worse it could get… dementia, liver failure, death? He didn't want to die. He didn't notice the glass slip from his fingers and shatter all over the kitchen floor when he heard his doorbell.

"Shit!" He cursed and went to picking up the pieces and in a rush he cut himself on a piece of glass. He made haste in tossing out the pieces and went to working on controlling his bleeding finger with paper towel and prayed that it would clot. He made quick strides out of the kitchen until he stood in front of the door to his condo and opened the door. When he opened the door, he could barely believe it.

Cascades of dark hair framing a heart shaped face, rich caramel skin, full red lips, eyes framed with long dark lashes and fashionably dressed too. A white peacoat, black and white checked scarf, tight jeans and boots complimented her so well. When Sebastian saw her he instantly remembered this Latin girl. She was the girl went to McKinley, the girl who called him out to a duel, what did he call her that day?

"Shaqueera?" He mumbled almost thinking this was a delusion that he might have passed out on the floor… again. But then a finely arched brow cocked and he wished he could have taken it back. Santana Lopez was standing on his stoop and he might have insulted her before even saying hello.

"Hi Twink. Look, don't get me twisted; I'm doing someone a favor by coming here to see you. So, don't think I'm stalking you or anything." Her arms crossed over her chest, so much for a good start.

"Ah. Wait, aren't you supposed to be in Kentucky? Cheerleading or whatever you do." He tried to seem amused but came off breathless. One raised eyebrow turned to two. Obviously she caught that right away, she was always quick.

"I transferred." Her eyes went down to his hand. "Are you feeling alright? You look kind of pale. Your hand is bleeding." With a gentleness he didn't know she possessed, she caught his wrist and pulled the paper towel from around his finger, it was turning a bruising color and blood was seeping out of the cut. Normally such a small cut wouldn't bleed like this.

Sebastian took his hand away from hers. "Just come in… it's cool outside. That or I could close the door in your face like I should have when I saw it was you." Who was he kidding? He was not mentally up for a battle of witty insults with Lopez. He thought for a second that even she knew that because she just rolled her eyes and stepped inside.

"Let's get that finger patched up before you bleed out on the carpet." She let him lead her to his first aid kit and helped him clean it up. "So what's really going on Smythe? You aren't looking your smirky gay self."

"It's none of your business." He snapped back almost without thinking, fiercely and aggressively. Santana's eyes seemed to widen at his reaction. This wasn't him at all. Sebastian was sly and coy. Never lost his cool or least he wouldn't openly show it. "Shit… Forget it."

She simply said nothing as she bandaged his finger with such care. He watched her slim fingers work to patch him up, the gleam of her dark hair, her long lashes fanning her high cheekbones when she blinked. He never really noticed that she was kind of pretty… if girls were your thing.

"What the hell are you looking at, French fry?" She smirked at him and put a hand on her hip. "You must like what you see."

"You are lacking the parts I want, Satan. Not to mention your fun-bags, aren't looking so fun." He motioned to her boobs that were covered by her coat.

"Whatever, gay or straight, I know I'm fine." She let out a small chuckle. "So, are you really going to tell me what's up with you or do I have to string you up by your bushy ass eyebrows before you tell me? Spill."

"Why do you want to know? How did you even know where I live?"

"Blaine sent me. He was worried after you called him the other day." She cast him a suspicious look. Blaine… of course he'd sent the she-devil to look after him.

"Tell him I'm perfectly fine."

"That's the thing Smythe, you aren't fine." She took his chin in her hand and tilted it at different angles. "Your skin is paler, your eyes are jaundice. Are you doing drugs?"

"No. No. Nothing like that, I'm not doing drugs." The Warbler pulled away from her giving Santana a pitiful look. "I'm just sick, cold."

"My dad is a doctor. I call bullshit." She looked into his eyes and seemed to see through him. "You are definitely sick, it's terminal. Is it your liver?" Santana's bitch mode seemed to visibly fall from her features and she was staring at him with a concerned look.

"Why don't you mind your own business, huh? Why don't you just get out of my face? I don't want you here!" He slammed his injured hand against the wall behind her head and succeeded in actually scaring her his sudden violent reaction. "Get out and don't come back here again."

In an instant, he could see the worry wiped from her face and in its place a face of stone appeared, her face void of any emotion. She pursed her lips and moved away, putting about two feet between them. "I understand. You don't have to worry about me coming back here again." She turned away and marched to the door. "Bye, Sebastian. Hope you get better." And walked out and slammed the door behind her.

The air seemed to rush out of him when the door slammed. Yet again he was unable to control his mood swings. He walked to the door and swung it open, only to be greeted by a cool gust of autumn wind. Peering out into the street, she seemed to be gone. With a heavy sigh, he went back into his condominium. He wish he hadn't acted like that, he thought looking down at his wrapped finger. Santana was only trying to help and he pushed her away like he did with everyone else. He made a bee-line for his sofa and laid on it, feeling tired again after his outburst. Sebastian tossed his arm over his eyes and let himself fall into a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**AN: I love this ship so much I wanted to write for it and snagged some ideas from CSI: Miami when Grant Gustin played two twins. It took longer to write because the characters seem to have pre-established personalities. Unlike writing for Hiro in Koi Shiyo, I don't have that much freedom to do as I wish with the main characters. I'm just hoping I did them some justice and things are a little different than what I initially thought.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"So did you see Sebastian?" The voice on the other side of the phone said as she was curled on the couch. "Is he doing okay?"

Santana froze; something told her that she shouldn't tell Blaine, she didn't want to worry him with how Sebastian was actually doing. If he knew, he'd call and harass him more and probably make Bassy shut down. He didn't seem like the type to talk about his problems.

"He's fine." She replied. "Kicked me out of my apartment and said my 'my fun-bags weren't so fun'. Typical gay." With a tilt of her head, she was holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she flipped through mindless late night television. "Now that that's over with, what's going on with my boo Brit."

"Yeah. About that." The boy said in a slow unsure drawl. "Santana, promise me you won't freak out and shoot the messenger-"

"Wait, what the heck are you saying, Blaine Warbler?" She was now not giving two fucks about David Letterman and some new sitcom star. "Out with it already, before I hop on a plane and HURT you!"

"She didn't want me to tell you because you'd freak. Brittany wanted to tell you on her own." It was obvious that Blaine was now sweating bullets. "Brittany told the Glee club today, that she and Sam are engaged."

Santana's mouth dropped open and could feel her heart come to a screeching halt before it started once again in erratic heartbeats. It felt like a surreal out of body experience, almost as if she were an onlooker to a dramatic scene in a play. "No. What?" She could hear her voice crack and tears form in the wells of her eyes. "Stop fucking with me, Brit wouldn't do that. We were working on us… that's the dumbest thing I ever heard. She loves me and that's more than I can say about Sam. He means nothing."

"I'm sorry San, but it's true." She could hear him say lamentably. "I wanted to tell you, you deserve to know."

She took in a breath and pressed her lips to the thinnest line possible. She wanted to scream at him, blame him. 'Why didn't you stop them?' but what good would it have for done her. Brittany moved on, there would be no more 'working on us'. Shaking fingers thread into hair as she tried to form words.

"Thanks B… you are a good friend. Feel free to still call but I don't need you telling me things anymore. Keep me posted on the New Directions; I hope you all break a leg at regionals." Before he could get a word in she hung up the phone. Getting up off the couch was hard but moving to the kitchen seemed harder as she found the heaviest drink she had in her cabinet and poured a glass. She wasn't exactly old enough to legally drink but had ways of obtaining liquor if need be. This was a 'need be' kind of situation.

Several shots in, and her counting only took her to about seven, she was feeling the buzz and the warm of the whiskey going through her. That didn't stop her for going back to the bottle and it wasn't until she put a dent in the bottle that she decidedly wanted to call Brittany in a drunken stupor. Songbird was the song that she sang to her to express something she couldn't do in words. It was only appropriate to turn to music again to convey this. The bravest part of Santana wanted Brittany to answer the phone but she was scared that she wouldn't be able to sing if she did, but luckily it went to voicemail.

_Cups of the Rose  
The girls in my old phone  
I should call one and go home  
I've been in this club too long  
The woman that I would try  
Is happy with a good guy  
But I've been drinking so much  
That I'ma call her anyway and say  
"F-ck that new guy that you love so bad  
I know you still think about the times we had"_

She felt like she could stumble over the words, she wasn't sure if the next lines that came out were intentional or due to the existence of so many other variations of the song and out of her own mind's inability to differentiate one from the other.

_I said "fuck that new guy that's been in your bed__  
__And when he's in you I know I'm in your head"__  
__I'm just sayin' you could do better__  
__Always turned you out every time we were together__  
__Once you had the best you can't do better__  
__Baby I'm the best so you can't do better_

She hung up the phone and staggered off to her room, she wanted to find the tightest sexiest dress and she was going to go out to the club and dance, if she was lucky she'd find a girl to feel the whole in her heart just for the night.

Seedy gay bars were hardly the kind of place that the Latina liked to be but it was enough for the moment. She ordered drink when she got there, thanks to her trusty fake ID. Some concoction of coconut rum, vodka, pineapple juice, blue Curacao, sour mix, and Sprite dumped into a one gallon plastic fishbowl with a long straw. She called again and this time sent Brittany a picture. The picture was taken of her from high up, one hand holding her phone and the other holding her cup. A black tight clinking dress stuck to her frame stopping mid-thigh, its dramatic v-neck cut low enough to show cleavage and a peak of her green bra, high heeled boots sealed the deal. Girls all around her, even one attractive butch lesbian with her arms around her thin tapered waist was snapped in this photo.

_I ran into your homeboys, they're all fuckin' idiots__  
__You're not even my girlfriend__  
__But they're trippin' cause I'm in the club__  
__Yeah that's right I'm dancin'__  
__And something cool is in my cup__  
__I'ma send a sexy picture__  
__To remind you what you're givin' up_

She never drank so much in her life; this had to be her at her drunkest. There was too much fun going on around her to be sad or down. She was living it up in NYC's insomniac lifestyle. Even when she didn't get a response from the blonde, she sent messages throughout the entire night.

_Fuck that new guy that you like so bad__  
__He's not crazy like me I bet you like that__  
__I said fuck that new guy that's been in your bed__  
__And when he's in you I know I'm in your head__  
_

_Fuck that bullshit you were always on  
I'm not crazy 'bout you, girl  
The love is gone  
I say fuck that bullshit you can save me  
That and when I'm not around, you can play this track._

She didn't need her? She was just some girl she fooled around with, her foot out of the closet. She didn't mean a damn thing to her. Santana knew she was lying to herself; it was the alcohol talking trying to shrug off any hurt that was still in her. At that point, she hit her black out point, nothing else of that night was she able to recall.

_Better by myself then when were together_  
_I mean, I'm just saying I can do better_  
_Oh baby I'm the best_  
_I can do better_

* * *

Soft sheets spread around her, cushy bed, a warm blanket draped over her; all of these things were fine and good but she felt horrible, her stomach was unsteady, her head was pounding, the light that filtered over her closed lids was way too bright. Something was tilting her head and pressing a cup to her lips, cool refreshing water seemed to flow down her throat, quenching the dryness of her mouth. A soft groan escaped her lips as she rolled over afterwards when the person let her go and walked out.

Who was in her apartment taking care of her? She opened her eyes and looked around, the sheets were cream Egyptian cotton and the comforter was very luxurious with cream and gold. Everything was nicely decorated.

But this wasn't her room.

This room was way too big, those weren't her bed sheets, this bed was a California King in comparison to her modest double.

She wasn't in her apartment.

Who's fucking house was this?

Santana whipped off the covers and almost puked when she stood, she should have found the bathroom and it turned out to be connected to this bedroom. Though her stomach felt empty of food she still felt the urge to vomit, and did so which made her feel a little bit better.

"You drunk bitch, honestly are you really this easy?" She jumped and turned around to look at a very familiar face. Sharp sea-green eyes that looked more brown at the moment, brown hair peaking under a black beanie, button up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and not buttoned at least three down, and jeans. He scared her at first, but it was just Sebastian.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

She was in his condo, not only that but in a huge t-shirt that she wasn't wearing before. She almost freaked out but instead went to her second best reaction. Anger.

"Where the fuck is my clothes? Why am I here?" Santana said slowly and calmly. Sebastian smirked, for once since seeing him again looking how he usually did.

"I saw you at the club last night, you recognized me and called me a 'limp dick loser' and proceeded to get me to sleep with you, or make out with you."

"Oh no, fucking way. I don't do dudes… anymore." She was horrified, but it's not like she could remember so she'd let it slide for now. "Did we… do it? Oh god, please say no."

"Ew, no." He rolled his eyes and walked out of the bathroom. "We can talk more about it downstairs, you need more fluids in you and some food. You were drinking on an empty stomach." And she didn't even want to ask how he even knew that.

* * *

**AN: Super weird ending for me. I made it a little shorter so I could crank out another one while I still had the ideal in my head. The song is a medley of Marvin's Room, the original is by Drake but the ones I sampled from and altered were by Conor Maynard, JoJo, and Paula DeAnda.**

** And iLoveGG… you really wanted a fic where ****Sebastian has Wilson's? Wow… how ironic that I wrote one xD hehe.**

**I was really motivated to write another chapter… and so soon too. Music is inspiring.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

* * *

Chapter Three

This was a big condo, Santana thought as she later found her way down the stairs. Too big for one person to be in and he didn't appear to have any roommates from what she could tell. It was beautiful, someone with interior decorating talent had touched it… that or Smythe was actually THAT kind of gay. With a small amount of decency, she stifled a laugh picturing him in an ascot gallivanting around with color swatches. Despite her indecent appearance at the moment, the Latina didn't even bother to change back into her clothes; she kept on the t-shirt and shorts that Sebastian provided. The place was so nice but she couldn't help but pick up on the feeling of loneliness and solitude his home exhibited.

She found him downstairs eating what looked like a healthy breakfast. Lean bacon, toast, eggs, and orange juice freshly squeezed. He looked up and his eyes met hers before landing on his plate, a small smirk sent his lips curling at the corners.

"Well you look a mess right about now. Good morning by the way."

"Right. Yeah, good morning." She said in a clipped voice as she sat down opposite of him, he even set out a plate for her. Her fingers danced over the golden utensils before choosing one and forking eggs. Instead of lifting it to her lips to eat, she brought her nose close to it to sniff it. The look on Sebastian's face was priceless, like he was going to just eject orange juice over the table. "I don't smell almonds, meaning there is a lack of arsenic… I'm assuming this is safe to eat."

"Oh it's fine. One, I wouldn't poison you and two, if I did… I'd use apple seeds. Lots of them. No one would know." And he smirked when she put the fork down and laughed when she shot him a strange look. "But seriously Satan, it's safe to eat." He even reached over and took some of her scrambled eggs and put it in his mouth.

"So," She started when he went back to eating. "What happened last night? There are some holes in my memory that you can fill in for me. I have a hard time believing I hit on you."

"You did… a lot more than that, diablesa." There was humor in his voice though he wasn't looking at her. "You were horrible."

~Night Before~

Sebastian was standing near the bar, it had been some time since he gone out to have a good time. The last time he went out was when he was in Ohio, to Scandals. Now he was at the FornaCafe, an obvious play on the word fornicate and rightly so. Sebastian was dressed in nice fitting jeans, stylish dress shoes, v-neck t-shirt, leather jacket and sporting some hot blonde rubbing himself over his crotch like a cat. It seems that this man was coming home with him tonight, he could tell by the looks of sly seduction he was giving him. Sebastian was desperately trying to remember his name, but he was sure it was Kevin or something along those lines. Not that it mattered much; "Kevin" was going to get fucked into the mattress.

The seas of people around them grinding against each other, he almost missed this. He wanted to be out on the floor dancing, not posted at the bar consuming fruity drinks. And like that his interest was gone with an expulsion of air. He looked down at Kevin with disgust.

"Do you mind? I caught a whiff of your over powering cologne and felt sick to my stomach. What is that? Guess? Please. Beat it." He pushed the smaller man away and scowled at him. He must have embarrassed the hell out of him because he went scampering into the crowd of people, no doubt back to his friends to tell them how much of an asshole Sebastian was.

Now he had a sour look on his face, the thoughts were a mood killer. He contemplated going back home and sulking over his piano like Erik from The Phantom of the Opera. Sebastian was too pretty for that and way too young.

He looked up to see a woman pushing her way through the crowd and making a beeline for him. There was a fleeting thought that she was some fag hag of the guy he just blew off but when he caught a full glance of her, he blinked hard. Seeing Santana in the same day twice was too weird to be a coincidence. She smirked as she drunkenly stumbled over, her ankles buckling a little bit in the heels.

"Wow! How funny is that you are here too?" Her speech obviously slurred. "After how you acted earlier I assumed you were going to lock yourself up like a recluse."

"You're drunk, and you are spitting on me." He seemed even more disgusted when she squeezed herself closer.

"Yeah so? You should be grateful I'm talking to you after the way you treated me, you limp dick loser. But I'm finding myself forgiving." She then smacked him really hard on the arm and smiled. "Buy me a drink."

"I only buy drinks for potential fuck partners, sorry." He scooped the bar once more as if he were looking for an exit.

"Fuck partner? You'll buy me a drink if I fuck you?" The expression on her face seemed more intrigued by this suggestion. She waved down the bartender and had the audacity to order a shot of Jose Cuervo Black on HIS tab, then proceeded to knock this shot back like it was nothing. "Alright, I'm kind of curious to see what all the fuss is about with Sebastian Smythe."

"Wait, no." He put his hands up and made an obvious look of disinterest. "I'm gay and so are you."

"Well, I've had sex with guys before." She shrugged, a small smile gracing her face. "I may not be attracted to men in an emotional way but, doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good fuck. Besides we are two hot people, drink a little more and I bet you won't even care." And she was back to flagging down the bartender. "Get him something that will make want to take me home tonight!" Sebastian could feel heat rise to his ears and spread over his cheeks.

"No! That's okay!" He yelled over the music as the woman behind the bar cast him an amused look. "No Lopez, I'm not fucking you. You don't have a dick."

"I have a strap-on. I haven't even used it yet." Santana didn't seem at all deterred by this which made him frustrated.

"It's not the same." He needed to get out of here, he was tired of this. "Look I need to go." He said watching at the girl ordered some sparkling soda drink, at least this one didn't have liquor in it, and she then proceeded to weep over the drink.

"I'm not pretty am I? Not even to a gay? Is it 'cuz my tits aren't real?" A sob escaped her lips. "You hate me too, everyone does." He looked around to see people staring at him with glares.

"Hush… look, I don't hate you." He awkwardly pat her back as she cried. "Why don't I take you home?"

"N-No." She said snapping out of it a little bit. "I don't want to go home. I'll be sad and alone there. I need someone to talk to and if you take me home, I'm just going to drunk call people." The drunken Latina folded her arms over the bar and wept with heavy heaves. This was horrible, Sebastian thought. He didn't talk to her anymore, he just pulled her into his arms and picked her up and she weakly held on to him. For the final time of the night he called the bartender, closed his tab and took his card back. If she didn't want to go home, he was going to take her to his condo. He wasn't sure if he could live with someone taking advantage of weepy Santana, not to mention he felt he owed her for blowing up at her earlier that day.

He carried her out of the club and valet brought him his car. They brought back his Jaguar XF without a ding or a dent, which was a little bit less stress for him. The tall male waited for them to exit his car and placed Santana inside the passenger seat before tipping them.

Once seated in his car, he went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable, mainly because he didn't want to hear her drunken whining and have her puke in his car. It was strange that she was quiet all now that they were moving, she hadn't made sound.

"Santana?" He said actually using her name for the first time, glancing at her occasionally as she stared blankly out of the window. The only sound came from the radio as he drove.

_To you, I'll give the world_

_To you, I'll never be cold_

_'Cause I feel that when I'm with you,_

_It's alright, I know its right._

_And the songbirds are singing,_

_Like they know the score,_

_And I love you, I love you, I love you,_

_Like never before._

She leaned her head against the glass and glanced in his direction, her lips trembling and tears gathering in her eyes, making them glossy, some escaping down her cheeks. He sighed himself still waiting for her to respond and eventually she did.

"It's like the universe is against me. That was a song I sang to Brittany. It was kind of ours." Brittany. Brittany. Wasn't that that blonde girl? The really stupid one? He was sure of it at that point.

"Was?" He said trying not to insult her; she probably wouldn't be able to bicker with him in this state. "You two aren't together?"

"We were on break, but she's found someone else and they are engaged." Her eyes flicked in his direction before looking out at the street. So that's what happened? His lips pursed when she started to let out small whimpers. "It hurts… I went through so much to tell her my feelings and now she's with someone else? My Abeula hates me because I'm gay and I was fine with that as long as I had Brittany. I gave up so much, and because I was too far away, we couldn't work."

He couldn't even speak; he didn't know what it was like to love something. His attraction to Blaine wasn't love; it was just a combination of comradely, respect, and lust. What could he even say to her about something he didn't have knowledge of?

"You just have to let her go. Experience the world in the mean time, if she comes back to you. I guess then it's meant to be." He said once he was able to form words, it was the first thing he could think of. She snorted and laughed even though she was crying.

"You got that from a Christina Aguilera song… "What a Girl Wants". You changed it up a little but it's pretty much the same thing she said, genius." She flashed him a small smile and he couldn't help but to smile himself.

"Did I? I didn't notice." Sebastian switched from the radio to a CD, anything but the Songbird song. He finally got her to stop crying, not that it mattered; it was just going to be the soundtrack of the drive back to his home. He could hear from her side of the car her quiet voice rising to sing along. Despite her current condition, her voice seemed intact.

_I don't wanna be left behind_

_Distance was a friend of mine_

_Catching breath in a web of lies_

_I've spent most of my life_

_Riding waves, playing acrobat_

_Shadowboxing the other half_

_Learning how to react_

_I've spent most of my time._

Sebastian's jaw dropped, how was she singing like that drunk off her ass? Satan was able to belt out the chorus without effort with polished skill.

_Catching my breath, letting it go,_

_Turning my cheek for the sake of the show_

_Now that you know, this is my life,_

_I won't be told it's supposed to be right_

_Catch my breath_

_No one can hold me back, I ain't got time for that_

_Catch my breath_

_Won't let them get me down, it's all so simple now_

He almost forgot how her voice sounded and here she was, drunk and depressed, putting on a show for him in his Jag. He let her sing her little heart out and he didn't mind it. Satan had the voice of an angel, he had to admit it to himself now since they were no longer enemies or competitors but he wouldn't say that to her.

He reached his home and helped her out of the car. By then the shot she took before they left the club made her like dead weight.

"Where are we going?" She groaned and clung to him, where did this extra twenty pounds come from. She seemed a hell of a lot lighter when he carried her out of FornaCafe. Her discombobulated questions that followed only proved that it was a good idea to take her home with him and not leave her there to be taken home by some stranger.

"I'm taking you to my house."

"Changed your mind about fucking me?" She looked up at him and then rolled her eyes. "I changed my mind, your card expired."

"Yeah I know, never wanted to cash that in." He said maneuvering his way through door and up the stairs after he locked the door behind him with one hand. He walked her to the guest room and dumped her on the bed. Upon being dropped, Lopez was crawling off of it.

"I'm gonna barf."

Sebastian helped her to the bathroom and held her hair up as she emptied her stomach into the porcelain bowl. He noticed that she had a tattoo on the back of her neck, at the base and a few inches from her hairline. It took him to lean in closer to see it, a dainty bow.

"I'm done… I just want to go to sleep now." Santana stood to her feet and began to take off her dress.

"Lopez, the hell-"

"Look, Twink. I'm just getting out of this, you're gay and my parts aren't your cup of tea. I'm not sleeping in this." She threw the dress and stood there in the middle of his guest bath, topless but wearing underwear. At this point, the Warbler was out of there and returned to shove something to sleep in, into her hands and waited outside like a gentleman. She exited the bath seeming irritated by something and she was looking at him with this face.

"So you won't at least make out with me? Not at all?" So it seems that Santana didn't take rejection well.

"No. One, you just got done throwing up. Two, I don't like you." The air of impatience hung heavy over his head. He just wanted her to go to sleep already.

"Whatever. Those lips don't look too kissable anyway. They are so thin that if you kissed me it'd be like tonguing a razor blade." It seemed that she was partially back to the old Snix he was accustomed to. Albeit, still drunk and wobbly as she made it over to the bed and pulled the blankets back. "I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. Brittany was perfect and she made me happy, we can't be like we were again."

Sebastian looked at her from his spot leaning against the wall. "Hey, don't say that okay?" She was perfectly healthy and yet here she was acting like it was the end of the world because some blonde bimbo ditched her for someone else.

"It's true. You don't know how it feels to love someone. I don't think you've ever known." She brushed him off as she rolled over to her side and curled up with the pillow. The tears returned and he waited until she cried herself to sleep before turning in.

~End Flashback~

Santana's mouth hung open as he finished the story. That was dreadfully discomforting to hear. She openly cried in front of Smythe, the one other person that could take someone's vulnerably against them. Though, he did take her to his place to keep her from being taken elsewhere, that she was thankful for.

"Looking back on it, the whole night was pretty amusing." Sebastian wiped his mouth at napkin.

"You would find that amusing wouldn't you?" She couldn't help but smirk a little bit.

"That song in the car, you were actually pretty good." He leaned back in his chair looking at her empty plate. "What are you going to school for here?" Sebastian tried to pretend that he had minimal interest in her.

"Music." She smiled as she thought of her dream. "Want to be famous and since I was blessed with a great voice." Santana checked her phone; she did need to get back home. She had an exam to prep for in a few days. "Ah look. I have to go. I think I've been here long enough."

"That's fine. I'm not keeping you here." He watched as she ran up the stairs, no doubt to get dressed and get ready to leave.

Santana reappeared wearing the clothes she wore last night, she wasn't exactly frantic but it was evident that she was feeling a bit awkward about the previous night's events. She stood in the door way as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"This, this didn't happen." Cast them a look. "If Blainers find out about that… I will hunt you down and rearrange your face." This was Santana talk for, thanks.

Sebastian chortled at her and facetiously waved his hand at her. "Whatever Satan." He sighed softly. "Uh, Lopez? Can I have your-"He looked up to see she had just walked out of the door. Damnit, she was always leaving before he could say something. He took his phone out and shot Blaine a text.

_Sebastian: What's Christina Agaylera's number?_

_Blaine: What? You mean Santana?_

_Sebastian: Who else could I be talking about?_

There was a long pause in that time before Blaine sent him her information; silly Blaine sent him all of her contact info. He shook his head and stored her as a contract in his phone. He smiled and shook his head; maybe that girl was someone he needed in his life at the moment. It was better than keeping himself away from everyone to suffer his sickness alone.

He might as well have some fun with Santana Lopez.

* * *

**A/N:** This was a long one… dear God. But I guess you an extra 1,000 words so I guess it all balances out. Uh… hope you all like this chapter. The songs in this chapter are Songbird by Fleetwood Mac and Catch My Breath by Kelly Clarkson.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

Chapter 4

* * *

Maybe going out and drinking wasn't such a good idea.

It seemed t hat after meeting Sebastian twice; Santana was now seeing him EVERYWHERE. Well she hadn't seen him for days but it seemed that everywhere she went she felt he would pop up. That was just her luck it seemed as of late.

If she wasn't walking down the street glancing over her shoulder, she would think of him every time that "Catch My Breath" played on the radio, in coffee shops, where ever she managed to find herself at the time. Sebastian Smythe was like the song, stuck in her head as she mindlessly hummed it.

If that wasn't bad enough, she had heard back from Brittany. The blonde duo getting married in May, that's what Britt told her. They wanted to be together and didn't want to wait long, and honestly, it made her absolutely indisputably nauseated. Nevertheless, after the stunt she pulled the night she left drunken messages on the girl's voicemail, all she could really do was grin and bear it.

Blaine was sweet enough to call and check on her, Grandpa Bowties was a better friend than she thought. Even Quinn was nice enough to send condolences… when she wasn't bragging about her Yale sorority and hot professor boyfriend bullshit. She even went as far to tell Santana that she needed to rebound, after all leaving a trail of broken hearts is what Santana did best. Though she doubted that would help her; drinking sure didn't.

Santana also decided she wasn't going home to Lima, the hurt was just too fresh at this point and Christmas was coming up. Her mother begged her to come home but it seemed like there was nothing left her back home but sadness and dejection.

So here she was feeling like her world had indeed ended with messy hair and sweat pants and a t-shirt that seemed three sizes too large for her fame. She was going to spend Christmas alone like some lonely sap and that didn't make her sad really… it did, however, piss her off. Santana groaned and oafishly flopped on the couch face down.

Her phone buzzed and she fumbled to grab it off her modest wooden coffee table.

_**Unknown: What are you doing?**_

She stared at the phone the longest in confusion, it wasn't often she got unknown texts from random strangers. There was a fleeting moment where she considered not responding but that thought was soon gone.

_**Santana: Who is this?**_

_**Unknown: Did you forget me already, lesbo? I thought we were besties.**_

Sebastian.

That had to be him.

_**Santana: How did you get my number, Sebastian? **_She immediately stored his number in her contacts.

_**Sebastian: Well, a little birdie gave it to me. No, you spent the night at my house, remember. I got it out of your phone.**_

Her hair bristled at that text. That was kind of creepy of him, well not kind of, it was borderline stalker.

_**Santana: Why?**_

_**Sebastian: Because, I think you are… interesting. I think it'd be fun to keep you around for a little while. What are you doing tonight?**_

_**Santana: None of your business Smythe. Since when are you interested in my personal life?**_

_**Sebastian: Since you, in a drunken stupor, asked me to fuck you.**_

That one was a good one, she thought as he nibbled on her plump bottom lip.

_**Sebastian: Remember you asked me what was wrong with me? If you come out to dinner with me, I will tell you.**_

She didn't choose to respond to message right away. The Mexican was too busy trying to convince herself she didn't care. The image of deep circles under his eyes, the yellowing of his palms, the tired look in his face, the brown in his green eyes came to mind and she ineffectively tried to push it from her mind.

_**Sebastian: Come on Lopez, I know you want to know.**_

_**Sebastian: Please.**_

Santana thought she just saw the word please coming from Sebastian, and not in the naughty or sarcastic tense. It was a legitimate "please" as in "please with a cherry on top" kind of please. With a small sigh escaping her she responded.

_**Santana: Fine… what kind of dinner is this? So I dress appropriately.**_

_**Sebastian: Wear something nice. Meet me at this restaurant.**_

He sent her the coordinates through maps, turns out it wasn't too far. Cab fee wouldn't be expensive at all to get there. She quirked an eyebrow before walking into her bedroom, painted a soft pastel blue. She walked to her closet and got an outfit together.

-Later that night-

Sebastian waited at a very small intimate table; he asked to be put on the second level overlooking the tables below. If this didn't feel more like a business transaction, it would be romantic. The tables were covered in red table cloths and golf accents and the lights were dim. They were even playing soft holiday music as he could hear chattering and the melodic tinkling of glasses and golden utensils. He distinctively heard Greensleeves playing.

It was too late to call this off, suddenly feeling nervous telling her about this. This secret only his family knew about he was now going to share with his rival; someone he didn't really even consider a real friend.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw her approaching in a mid-length black trench coat with pink peaking underneath it, black leather ankle boots. It was acceptable for this was the type of establishment that didn't allow jeans or casual clothes. As for him, a navy blue shirt, black dress pants, dress shoes, and he polished it off with his black framed glasses. The host that escorted her up took her coat and he was surprised to see her actually wearing a pink dress with leather high waist belt.

"I would have never pictured you in pink."

"Just because I'm a mean bitch and a lesbian doesn't mean I don't look pretty in pink." She thanked the girl and sat down. Her eyes raking over him with something other than judgment for once; it was almost a kind of relief.

"So, how are you doing lately? You've been alright?" He seemed as genuinely concerned as he was about his apology a year before. He wouldn't dream of making fun of her pain after he witnessed her cry in his car nights ago.

"I've been alright I guess." She said, with a small tilt of the head. "Really Smythe, what's this all about anyway?"

Sebastian took a deep breath before audibly releasing it. "I just want to get on your good side. Years of competition and rival schools. We aren't that anymore, we might as get along, right?"

"This is sounding more and more like some kind of treaty."

"Call it what you want. I want to call it a friendship." He crossed his fingers on top of the table as she shot him a weird look.

"I don't know what kind of Richie-Rich ganja you have been smoking, but the idea of you and me being friends isn't on my to-do list."

Sebastian looked down at his hands for a moment, troubled with how to say this. He had a weakness, an imperfection, and he never wanted to acknowledge it or admit it to anyone. It was difficult for him to speak and thus, five minutes of silence started after drinks were brought to the table.

"I don't want to die with regrets." He finally managed and brought his eyes up to look at her. Santana was confused but he could see disquiet on her heart shaped features.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I have Wilson's Disease. My body stores up on cooper deposits in my organ tissues." He sighed. "I've had it for a little while. I've been taking treatments for it. There is a chance that my liver could fail and I…" He clenched his jaw tight. "I could die, I guess."

Santana seemed to be in shock as he searched her face, waiting for a reaction, something. Fleeting moments seemed to slow to a creep before a single twitch of recognition showed there.

She finally looked away. "So you are sick and it is your liver." For the first time he'd seen her shaken, looked like the air was knocked out of her.

"Yeah, at first I thought that being the bad guy and doing what I wanted would bring me satisfaction. It doesn't, just makes people shy away from me. I don't have anyone. Not really."

"You have Blaine." She said leaning in more, but keeping her voice to a hush. "He doesn't know, does he?"

"Blaine has his own problems. He's still in love with Kurt and that will never change and I know about Kurt's dad. I couldn't tell him, no one knows save for my family and now you. I had dreams too, Lopez. I think I'm more hurt by having to give up dancing and singing because I lose coordination or my speech gets all wonky. I had to stop because I was too proud to admit it."

"Sebastian, don't tell me this now." She put her face in her hands, she couldn't deal with this and she already had too much going on in her life. He was talented; she saw how bright his smile was when he sang. It wasn't that stupid little smug grin, it was a brilliant smile; the only time it seemed real. Now he had to give that up, because of a sickness? She would have never known that he was sick all this time.

"You are a good person Lopez. I think I could learn something from you, I get tired of hiding. It's like being in the closet again only twenty times worse but trying to keep everyone from peeking in." He watched her furrowing his brow. "Look I'm not trying to dampen the mood but what I mean to say is, we… We may need each other. Do you understand?"

"No." She laughed but didn't seem too amused. "Just let me think about this." Was being friends with him like some form of cruel unusual punishment? His fears were then alleviated when she spoke again after a minute or so. "Alright Fievel, you win okay."

"Thank you." A small smile crossed his face. "So, what is Miss Lopez up to for Christmas? Going back to Lima?"

"No. There is nothing really in Lima for me now." She played with her bracelet idly. "I was just thinking of staying home, making a meal out of it, open my present I bought for myself and watch lame ass Claymation classics on ABC Family."

"Sounds gay and I don't mean the holly jolly way." He scoffed and it made her emit a look of displeasure. "My idea of a lonely Christmas seems better."

"And what would that be, smart guy?"

"I want to go to Paris. It's a shame really, I have flier miles so it would be cheap for me to go and afford another ticket." He carelessly looked at his nails and mischievously glanced at her face.

"Paris? Paris, France?" He had her hooked, it was a good idea. What fun would it have been to go there alone?

"Of course Paris, France. I don't want to make this seem like I'm trying to buy you, but as I said, keeping you around would be fun. We could own the place." The Warbler's lips turned upwards into his signature smirk.

"What's the catch?" Leave it to Santana to be skeptical.

"No, catch Speedy. I just want to have fun, get out do something other than mope and think about death."

"You aren't going to die, Smythe-"

"I could though. Why not go out with a bang if I do? I don't get to perform, the third thing I like to do is travel and that would be pretty lame to do alone."

She pressed her lips together and watched him, Sebastian was an asshole, or at least she thought he was. Santana could never get a chance like this again and Sebastian was her ticket there, might as well and all she had to do was be his friend? "Okay."

"You want to go? Great." He smiled and called the waiter over so they could order. "I want to be there before Christmas Eve."

"Can you even speak French? I'm guessing we are going to be like the typical tourists right? Butchering the language with our language guides." She chuckled a little at the thought. "Or get a tour guide."

The dark haired Latina watched as he grinned at her, it was almost perverted of him. "Non, je ne peux parler français. Ce n'est pas ma première fois en France." He spoke, his voice like velvet and the accent, perfect. She must have not hid her reaction well because he laughed. "Did that make your panties wet Satan?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not impressed by you or your hipster glasses." She said rolling her eyes, the waiter came and took their orders. She decided on a Cherry Balsamic short rib and he got the Cedar Planked salmon.

"If I can recall, you were at the club; you were all over me." He said and was surprised to be met with laughter and he couldn't help but to smile back. "Don't even deny it."

"I was drunk, asshole." They both giggling like school kids, it was nice. She seemed less sad about the break up and he didn't have to hide behind his shield of bitchiness, neither of them did. They spent that evening exchanging stories and talking about what they would do when they visited Paris.

Paris would be warmer than New York City.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know how I'm able to crank these out so fast… mainly because I think I don't have anything else better to do. And another funny thing I notice, I have a preset plan when I go in writing and when I write something else happens. The Paris thing was impromptu. The same thing happens when I write scripts for comics. What I have written sometimes doesn't make it to the comic page, sometimes it just writes itself. I have read French speaking Sebby fics… and I can see it. In fact, I think it's hot so I added it. **

**By the way, he said "I can speak French. This isn't the first time I've been in France." Or something along those lines.**

**Should I do a Christmas one before or after Christmas?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

**A/N1: "Hehe, sure you ain't wet Santana? A lot of girls would be ;D" I literally fell out of my chair laughing because it is truth. Thanks for that review. Totally made my day.**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

"That's too bright." She heard his voice from bed as she held up a dress. Santana rolled her eyes at the Sebastian who was sitting up against her head board, legs crossed and hands on top of his stomach. So far she only had a few things in her bag, thanks to this bitch. He was supposed to be helping.

"If this keeps up, I may not go. I only have two dresses and underwear packed because of you. And we leave tomorrow." Off she went to the drawing board, i.e. her closet.

"It's all about neutrals with a splash of color; your closet is a rainbow. Go figure." He rose, his long limbed form from her bed and peaked into her closet once more, now actively going through her clothes with a determined face. He would find something in here.

"Who appointed you fashion police?" She decided to look through her shoes at this point. Only one pair of open toed heels made it through with the boots and heels she did settle on.

"I have been to Paris. I know how these things work. Scarves." He said pulling the ones she had off a hanger and throwing them on the bed."

"Wow, it's refreshing to see you Kurt Hummel-out on me." The sassy Latina said, watching him turn to her.

"Keep talking and you aren't going to Paris." He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he shot her a look of disapproval. He had a few things in his arms before turning back to her closet, something white and red stuck out to him. It was some sort of dress.

"Hey Satan… go get me some juice." He said still eyeing it but not pulling it out of the closet.

"Excuse me? Go get you some? Don't you mean please?"

"Can you go get me some juice please?" He grumbled, but at least the nicer way got her out of the room so he could look at this better. He pulled it out and held it up and his jaw dropped.

A candy striper costume?

His face seemed to burn red seeing that she even had underwear to go with it, snow white and completely made out of lace. The stockings had cute red bows on them, for fuck's sake.

Then he thought about it, they would be in Paris, and legally drinking. This could be used against her later, maybe in a dare or a bet. He folded it up the best he could and shoved it into his duffle bag and quickly zipped it.

By the time she returned he was putting clothing into her suitcase, and she was none the wiser.

"I brought you water instead, I think that would do you better than juice would." She handed him a bottle of water and he took it gladly. He twisted the cap, tilted it back, greedily drinking it in as she stood quietly watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp. She briefly gnawed her lip before going to fold the clothes into her suitcase. "You are up to something, weasel."

"I don't know what you are talking about." He said looking at his water bottle, which he drank half of. "I've been nothing but good this whole time, helped you with your wardrobe and everything. I've been a little Christmas angel; a sexy one at that."

"Whatever floats you boat Chumley, but I know your devious weasel face."

"Easy, Stu McGuff. You are always thinking I'm up to something. I'm just standing here." He leaned in closer to her almost until they bumped chests, a teasing smile on his lips. "You got to learn to trust me."

"Whatever, I'll drop it for now." She said pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking her phone for texts.

None.

None from Brittany anyway, she stared at it and sighed before putting it back in her pocket. Tomorrow was the day she was leaving and she hadn't heard a word from her. Panic almost rose from her but then again, so did anger.

"What's wrong?" She could hear Sebastian's voice above her head; she turned her eyes up to look at him. The smile seemed to be gone.

"Nothing," She began but it was his turn to give her a skeptical look. "It's just that Brittany-"

"Don't worry about her, she'll come around. Maybe she's giving you space." He squeezed her shoulder. "Not to mention, I don't want to be bothered with a Debbie Downer." His stomach growled ferociously when he realized they haven't eaten since noon, and it was dark out.

"We could order a pizza and head off to bed. We do have to get up tomorrow morning and catch that plane." It was almost like she read his mind; she sat on her bed and ordered something online.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

The room was dim and lit with red lights and he was seated on a soft plush couch that was in the shape of, and he double checked this, a pair of lips. There we people around him, mostly scantily clad men and women.

Brothel?

No.

This was a burlesque club or it appeared to be. It had a large wide stage with elevated platforms. Everything was black and red around him, though it appeared to be high-end and very clean. He could smell the heady smell of a Cuban cigars, leather, and perfume. The smell of something fruity but with a hint of sugar, the smell was completely and utterly bewitching… though feminine.

He looked around once more at the patrons; they were all dressed in suits, vintage suits at that. This atmosphere seemed very 1930s right down to the style of dress of the women. The men in tight high waist flamenco dancer breeches; their bodies chiseled and cut and almost made him drool. The women wore corsets, garters, stockings, feathers; if you could see it on women's lingerie, he saw it here. Even he was dressed in a suit and his hair slicked back and parted in the same manner as men wore their hair in that decade.

A blonde woman passed him and set down on the table in front of him, what looked to be bourbon in a glass.

"I didn't order this…"

"Oh I know, sweetheart. It's seems you have an admirer in one of the girls, I was just told to hand you the drink." Her accent even seemed to fit the time, kind of squeaky. Before he could ask her anything else, she was already weaving around this Gentleman's club. He lifted the drink to his nose and breathed in; the sweet scent of black cherry was absorbed by his senses.

Sebastian took a sip just as a man appeared from behind the curtain, approaching the vintage microphone center stage.

"I'd like to welcome you all tonight, gentlemen." The man declared in a smooth voice, the rest he couldn't really make out, He was already at sensory overload. The smells, the sounds, the taste of the bourbon whiskey were all around him. "But without further to do, our very lovely Miss Lola."

The man stepped gestured to the curtain behind him as they pull back to reveal a couch, the back of the couch faced the audience. He could hear the band begin to play; drums and horns. His eyebrows went up seeing a long dark haired, tanned woman appear from the couch. Her form pulled seemed to be poured into her bustier, pushing her breasts up as her waist tapered and her hips flared, covered with ruffle panties. Sheer gloves covered her hands up to her small wrists, flashy jeweled bracelets added sparkle.

Red painted lips.

Black hair in classic pin-curls.

Tanned mocha skin.

And then her plump lips parted and he heard her voice, he was blown away.

Santana. There was no other to mistake her for; this Lola was the girl he knew as Santana.

"_Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets__  
__and little man, little Lola wants you__  
__Make up your mind to have, no regrets__  
__Recline yourself, resign yourself you're through.__"_

She shimmed for the crowd and they responded with cat calls, Sebastian just seemed to sit horrified. What was this? He looked at the glass, said "fuck it to his mind", and knocked it back with a hiss and a shudder.

"_I always get, what I aim for__  
__And your heart and soul, is what I came for.__"_

Her eyes met his and she smirked, it didn't take many strides at all to reach his view of the stage, not with those long stocking legs. "Lola" sat down at the edge of the stage, crossed her legs (how reminiscent of their "Smooth Criminal" encounter) but she leaned back with her arms behind her, open rather than closing her arms over her chest she did that time. She pointedly gestured to his blazer with a boot.

"_Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets__  
__Take off your coat, don't you know you can't win."_

He could feel his chest constrict and heat pool in his belly. The fuck was going on? He couldn't be getting turned on by this. He liked men, he liked hard planes of muscle and sharp angles, and he liked cock. NO. He loved cock, he had for the longest. It was natural for him to like it. It was familiar. He was not familiar with soft curves or breasts. Breasts were too much like udders to him.

And vaginas? He detested the thought, how they looked, he'd never see the appeal. At least, this is what he told himself. This was wrong.

"_You're no exception to the rule,__  
__I'm irresistible you fool, Give in__  
__Give in, you'll never win__"_

She slid down from the stage and approached his seat, slowly, in the same manner a lioness would prowl. Her hand gripped his chin and tilted his head upwards, lowered her lips to his neck and when he felt her tongue touch, it was like electricity shooting through him.

* * *

"Fuck." Sebastian jolted awake, a light sheen covering him as he stared off into the darkness of Santana's room. Even his spot on the futon cot on the floor, he could hear her breathing in a steady rhythm. He reached down under his blanket and felt his pulse beating like a hammer in his manhood as it stood to full attention, constrained by the fabric of his underwear and his pajama pants. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

He rolled over and lay prostate against the padded cot, now sandwiching himself between his own body and the surface where he laid. He weighed his options, he could simply lay here and think about horrible things until the erection died down or he could…

No way in hell, he thought.

That was just gross; he'd rather just not rub himself raw to the thought of a girl. Not just any girl, the girl who slept not too far from him.

He reached out for his phone and decided to send out an email and by the time he was able to close it, his wasn't even close to aroused but it was also now six in the morning. No point in going back to sleep.

* * *

12 Hours.

TWELVE HOURS, he sat on the plane, bouncing his leg trying to keep himself from closing his eyes. In fear that a vision of Satan in that get up from his dream, or even an image of what she might look like in her candy striper costume. It frustrated him. Even more so, as Santana spent her time reading, listening to music, and sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the chaos going on in his head.

All this because he had a bad attitude and she just let him be.

So, when he stepped off the plane in Charles De Gaulle, he almost kissed the ground.

Santana seemed to be fascinated; it was like her eyes lit up like a child in a toy store. The look on her face seemed to be enough to pull him out of his rut. She looked as if she wanted to pinch herself.

"Calm your tits, Lopez. It's just the airport." He chuckled as they walked to baggage claim.

"It feels unreal, I'm here. I won't believe until I see the Eiffel Tower." Her ponytail bounced as she impatiently bobbed on the balls of her feet. "Let's hurry up and get our bags." She ran ahead just before he could retort.

"Impatient thing."

"Sebastian!" He heard a voice call out in thick friend accent. "Mon ami! You're here! Salut!" He could see girl waving him down. It was hard to miss her with her flaming red hair and green/hazel eyes. She was as pretty as a picture as he remembered, and a little older now.

"Ellie! Salut, ma fille!" Seeing her again brought a smile to his fast as she took off like a rocket and latched onto him in a tight hug. He looked up to see Santana watching them, with the most peculiar look he'd seen.

* * *

**A/N2: Ending it here before I pop a blood vessel in my head. I'm kind of being a bit of a scrooge face. Especially being home with my parents (which I'm just not used to anymore) and having constant disturbances. As I promised, chapter before Christmas, however it isn't a Christmas chapter. That's probably not going to happen until after, just don't have enough time when I have like 3 parties to prepare for. I'll be trying to get that too you, definitely before New Years.**

**This one was a lot of fun (when I wasn't being bothered) but it was also the HARDEST one to write. Hopefully it gets easier… I hope.**

**Another thing I want to add. The song is called "Whatever Lola Wants (Lola Gets)" but there are so many versions of this song, I'll let you pick. And the song was written in the 50s… whatever.**

**Been watching WAY too much Doctor Who. I'm slipping.**

**I need some R&R (Reads and Reviews, as well as rest and relaxation) Thanks for reading again guys. Y'all are fun. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Who is this girl?" Ellie asked, almost as if Santana wasn't standing there. The Latina could feel her eyebrows meet in a scowl. Who was she? Rude girl. She was lucky she was relatively cute for a ginger and didn't have an overabundance of freckles.

"She's a friend. Her name is Santana Lopez, she's from Ohio." Sebastian said looking down into her face with a soft smile. A look she never really saw on his face; a loving expression.

"A friend? Ne ressemble pas "juste amis" pour moi." An eyebrow went up as she cast a look to Sebastian. The red head then turned her eyes to Santana and she flashed a friendly smile. "Sorry about that, I'm Ellie."

"Oh right. Now I'm here and the odd one out. Yeah, nice to meet you too." She didn't hide her annoyance, that wasn't her style. She simply crossed her arms over her chest and sized her up. Cute. Definitely cute but why did she feel defensive of her standing next to Sebastian, especially with his damn arm around her shoulder. Oh top of that, she rocked school girl chic so much that it probably outdid Rachael Berry.

"Oh, Je suis désolé. Sorry, I didn't mean to come off rude. Bad introduction." She made a "silly-me" gesture with her hand and her forehead.

"Uh huh."

The only male in the party made a face, obviously uncomfortable with this situation; maybe it was too much estrogen and female hormones bouncing back and forth.

"Say, I'll go… get the bags." He walked off to do that leaving the two girls alone. When Sebastian did leave them, the ginger haired girl leaned in closer, her fingers playing with a necklace around her neck, a golden apple on a golden chain.

"Forgive me for saying, but, who are you to Sebastian?"

"Look, I don't mean to be bitch. No wait. Yes I do. It's none of your business. I hope you don't actually like him, because you are in for a surprise when you find out he's a butt bandito."

That caught the girl off guard and it left her blinking a few times with wide bright eyes. The girl kind of glared a little.

"Don't say that about him."

"I only say what's true, I dish out brutal honesty. You might turn those eyes elsewhere Pippi, because he ain't buying." Snixx was already out and had her forked tongue ready. The girl seemed to be egged on by this.

"You are jealous? Of me? Oh that's too much." Ellie crossed her arms over her chest. Santana almost leapt down her throat but when Sebastian returned she held it back. It took everything, EVERYTHING in her power to bite that tongue of hers.

Without missing a beat, the Parisian turned to him with a smile. It was like it never happened which infuriated Santana even more. "Bastian, it's almost Christmas! What are we doing today?" With her wispy, almost magical voice; Santana was sure she had a dislike for the French girl. Bastian? Really?

"I was thinking we could go shopping." He suggested. "Gives us a chance to sightsee and experience Paris."

"I'll get you a car." The girl hooked her arm around his as they walked out of the airport.

* * *

She was supposed to have a good time; so much for that. Santana spent the last hours watching the two "catch up", how fucking lame was that? She did see the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe but that was dampened by the presence of this girl. They went out shopping and bought things, she even bought Sebastian a Christmas gift for taking her here.

In the two hours, they covered lots of ground and took many pictures. She found out many things about this Ellie girl. Ellie Facet, she was only 16 and yet was like a bean stalk at 5'11. Even though girl hadn't said anything else about their encounter, Santana was territorial and was nearly tempted to trip her.

"_Are you jealous?"_ What damn nerve she had?

The dark haired girl was unpacking her clothes as Ellie and Sebastian spoke in the main room of the suite they stayed in. She couldn't understand them even if they were passionately talking back and forth, or more like arguing in French. She regretted not taking French in high school.

Seemed like Red was doing most of the talking, Sebastian seemed to be the calmer one; speaking in hushed tones.

"You… NINCOMPOOP!" She heard the girl yell and Santana couldn't help but kill over laughing. The accent is what did it. Oh she got a good hearty chuckle out of that. The next thing she heard was the girl storming out in a flurry of (what Santana thought to be) French curse words.

It didn't take long for her to sense eyes on her and turn to see Sebastian watching her. He himself had a small smile on his face.

"It's almost refreshing to argue with her sometimes."

"Right." She couldn't bring herself to speak to him. She was still steaming at him and the girl hanging all over each other.

"Look here Lopez…" He started before turning him around. "There is something I need to tell you about Ellie. She's my half-sister. My father is notorious for being a womanizer, it seemed only natural that when he came to France that he'd hook up, especially after mom died."

Santana could feel heat rising to her face, she felt so stupid. It made sense; both Sebastian and Ellie had those sharp alert green eyes and favored each other just enough to share genes from their father. Their smirks were equally annoying.

"Why didn't you just tell me that earlier?"

"It's kept private; it could ruin his reputation as a politician." He shook his head sullenly."Santana?" She heard him call, his voice soft and sweet. She looked into his tired face, he seemed drained of color and he was not looking his best. This didn't sit well with her as she sat helped him onto her bed.

"Just... Stay here." She walked out of the room to go get him some water.

"We were supposed to go out to dinner." He felt dizzy and nauseous but hoped that it would pass.

"You need to sit you ass down and relax, we walked around for two hours. You've done enough." She returned within minutes with a bottle of water. She sat down next to him, reaching out to touch his forehead and his face. Her hands were as gentle as her expression; the fierce Latina was cable of being nurturing. "Here, just drink this." She pulled her hands from him to hand him the water, he in turn greedily gulped it down.

_"That Santana girl... She isn't just a friend." Ellie spoke in French as Santana left the room. "You never even told me about her."_

_"Really she's just a friend. You are reading into this too much."_

_"I've seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you."_

_"We both are gay. There is nothing between us."_

_Ellie rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. Why was she so concerned about this? Though she made a good point; he never brought anyone with him here. He could see how she'd believe Satan to be someone special._

_"You say one thing but I know you Sebastian. You are lying to yourself. Gay is a label, sexuality isn't so black and white. If you like her, you like her!"_

_"I'm telling you, she's just a friend!" He could feel himself getting frustrated but when he thought about it, he was sexually attracted to her and that scared him. It was a part of him that he didn't want to admit._

_"Bullshit she is! You keep lying to yourself, it might start working! I just want you to be happy and that girl just does." He did notice how he smiled and laughed a lot more with Santana around, how he hated when she cried, enjoyed their back and forth but liked it when they could actually talk._

_"You are just trying to make me less gay. I'm not going to date a girl to make you happy."_

_Ellie almost choked him and he could tell by her twitching fingers. "__ You… NINCOMPOOP__!" She threw her hands into the air as she left, no doubt he'd see her later. Ellie didn't have the aptitude to stay angry with him for too long. One of the things he loved about his sister._

"Sebastian!" He heard Santana screeched waving her hand in front of his face. He snapped out of his daydream, blinking rapidly. "I was asking if you were hungry."

"Uh yeah." He nodded slowly before stopping her before she could stand to go order room service. "Let's go to Disneyland tomorrow, I haven't been in a while. I think it'd be fun."

"Alright, I'll indulge you. Not because I want to go but because you do." Santana teased him with a soft smile.

* * *

Disneyland was too much fun, Santana was actually surprised. The rode rides, played games, had a nice meal. He even got her these adorable Christmas sequin Minnie Mouse ears headband and he a Mickey Mouse red top hat. For once in many weeks she felt happy and excited. All the moping over Brittany didn't matter now.

They walked side by side most of the night, hands occasionally touching but only briefly. Sebastian seemed annoyed with this contact after a while and grabbed her hand in his. It was strange how it made her feel this fluttery feeling in her stomach. The same feeling she got when she and her ex-girlfriend locked pinkies. It felt nice, warm, and right.

Sebastian couldn't get the day and what Ellie said out of his head as he laid down to sleep after they turned in. It felt… good, surprisingly good. It confused him, he spent years being confused and being sure he was attracted to men, years of being shunned by his father… only to be here at this moment. At this moment thinking about a woman as he laid down to sleep. He felt something for her after the weeks that lead to this very moment; it was a little more than a fondness.

Sexuality wasn't that black and white. There was no such thing as 100% gay or straight. Was that what Ellie believed? He'd been through this already, he liked men but he thought of Santana in ways he didn't think of any woman before her. He'd have to talk to his little sister about this later, right now he was exhausted. Stretching out under his blanket, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

* * *

Santana got up later that night with a headache, no doubt from the wine. She was dehydrated and needed to take a drink of water. The Latina stumbled into the kitchen and poured some water into a glass and took a drink. She leaned over the counter in her navy blue pajamas when she heard some weird noises coming from Sebastian's room. This concerned her so she let the glass down and wandered over to his bedroom and let herself in. Peering into the dark room she could make out his figure, thrashing on his bed.

She wandered over to his bed and gently shook him.

"Smythe," she said softly. "Wake up, man. You are having a bad dream." She did see him open his eyes once her own had adjusted to the darkness. He was shaking hard, a little bit damp from sweat. He seemed confused as he backed up against the headboard. "Sebastian. It's me, Santana."

"S-Santana?" He said breathlessly, trying to focus on her. He grabbed her by her wrists, almost crushing them in her grip. She winced a little but pulled him to her chest and he let go of her wrists but wrapping his arms around her and clutching her tightly. She shivered when he grip the back of her shirt, before his hands splayed over the skin of her lower back. His face was into the crook of her neck.

"It's okay… You're okay."

He tilted his head upwards and could see the shape of her face, feeling her soft breath on his cheek. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers. "Sannie."

She pulled her head away with a sharp jerk and she stared at him with a shocked look. What the hell was that? Maybe he was confused; it was obvious that he was delirious. He didn't give her another chance to recoil before he moved in for another, this one seeming more concrete than the last.

She could feel herself falling into his heated kiss, she ran her fingers through his soft hair, it surprised her that he used so much gel to tame his almost baby soft tresses. When he urged her lips to part she almost moaned.

Sebastian Smythe could kiss someone senseless.

Their tongues, slowly dancing around each other; breaking into smaller sweeter kisses.

Santana was the first to pull away; she needed to get out of this room, to get away from Sebastian before she burned up in his fire. She tried to leave his bed but he hugged her tight and pressed his face to her back, but he held her soft; if she so desired, she could slip through his fingers.

"No… stay. Please." He sounded terribly venerable. She sighed and turned in his arms, lying down in his bed.

"Okay. I'll stay, but I'm sleeping." He lay down next to her and stroked her hair for a moment before lay on his back and listening to her breathing as she drifted to sleep. It gave her comfort, more comfort than he would have ever thought.

* * *

Sebastian woke up that morning, soft curve of an ass pressed to his groin. His hand fumbled on this mysterious hip and his eyes cracked open as he slowly crept out of bed. He snatched his phone off the nightstand and called Ellie.

The phone rang about eight times before going to voicemail, but then again it was also five o'clock in the morning the on Christmas day.

"Ellie… uh, you know what you said: la sexualité est fluide. Vous aviez raison, j'aime Santana. J'ai embrassé sa dernière nuit. I don't know what to do… it feels like my whole world has been flipped on its axis. Call me back later, when you aren't mad me." He got off the phone running his fingers through his hair.

Why did he kiss her?

Maybe it was because she was the first thing he saw after having that horrible nightmare. That he was alone in the dark, only lit with the fire that burned the room. Seeing her when he woke up calmed him down; made him realize that he wasn't alone. Maybe the kiss was his way of making sure SHE was real and there.

Santana came into the room with her hair mess and still rubbing her eyes.

"Merry Christmas." He could hear her say as she wondered over to the phone to call in for them to have breakfast. She made sure she was specific and he was radiating some weird feelings watching as she mindfully kept his condition in mind by picking specific foods.

"Merry Christmas, San." He said leaning against the counter. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about last night, it was still territory he wasn't familiar with: women or feelings, both weren't his thing.

"I can see it on your face… and I'm just going to say. I'm not ready talk about this right now. It's just weird." He could feel relief wash over him as she continued. "Let's just enjoy our trip and enjoy Christmas in the mean time."

He nodded as let a small smile appear on his face. "I agree with that. I'm not ready to talk about it either." He saw her smile back and sat down at the bar in the kitchen. "So it's Christmas, let's exchange gifts while we wait for breakfast." He got up and ran off to his room, only to returned to his spot holding a wrapped box with a pretty blue bow on it.

Santana took it out of his hands with a skeptical look on her face before smirking a little bit.

"I'm just going to hope that snakes don't pop out."

"It's better than snakes. I'll give you a clue of you want it."

"Okay, what is it?"

"It's a girl's best friend." It was his turn to smirk, and laugh a little bit as she now trying to rip the wrapping off. He loved her astonished face as she pulled out a beautiful gold diamond pendant necklace.

"Oh this is so pretty."

"It's not Jared but it's real 24-karot gold…" She was already putting it on when he started talking about the gold purity and the cut of the diamonds. It looked good around her neck.

"Thank you Sebastian this is really really nice." He watched this brilliant smile spread over face, from cheek to cheek, showing off pearl white teeth. "I have something for you too. I noticed you didn't own one and I think you should have." And she skipped off to the closet in the main room and pulled out a gift bag. "Don't expect anything… HUGE."

He laughed and thanked her when he took the bag. "I won't. Thought that counts right?" When he opened the bag he just laughed a little. A new pair of red and white checkered framed glasses and a matching beanie that made his head look like a picnic table.

"Thanks, I actually like these, comfy." He even tried them on. He looked into her face to see she was even more pleased with him liking her gift than she was with hers and that was a good feeling. Room service was coming in to bring him his breakfast and yet all he could think about was how happy Santana seemed to be.

Shit he was fucked.

* * *

**A/N: This is so long… it took a long time and I had to go through and extract a little bit to make this seem a little less long than it is. It's pretty much a huge 3k chunk of a chapter. I can't wait to do something with them… bring them closer together, it would be a good moment to write smut but I believe at that point in time it wouldn't be something they would do, it's against who they are, they will want to fight it first and avoid it… eventually I see them giving into each other but not right now.**

**Also I kind of want to give to a picture of how Ellie looks I modeled her from Karen Gillan and Paulina Cerrilla. I have a love for red heads, I think they are just so pretty... Maybe because I have a thing for freckles.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **Glee** or its characters. Glee is produced by **Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox**. I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

Chapter Seven

* * *

The next few days in Paris were filled with rainy day trips, shopping, and hanging out with Ellie. Santana discovered she wasn't a bad kid; a bit naïve but she had the same performing talent as Sebastian… guess that was something they shared in their blood. Ellie and Santana exchanged Skype IDs and email addresses, mainly because the girl worried about her brother and wanted Santana to keep an eye on him.

What was she, his babysitter all of a sudden?

So when the time came for them to part at the airport, she had to keep a cold bitch demeanor at the two siblings' goodbyes. The plane trip back was a snore fest; another tired movie that she seen before leaving to France. Sebastian was smart enough to buy the audio book to Chanel Bonfire and they both shared headphones.

When they returned, jet lag seemed to Sebastian hard; it must have been ages since he flown or maybe his body wasn't as resilient as it had once been. He collapsed on his bed with a clumsy belly flop, and did not move.

"Santana, can you go in my overnight bag in the bathroom and grab some aspirin." She sighed and got up to go to his bag. She unzipped the bag and rummaged around in it for a bit looking for it, though her hand brushed something; fabric from the feel of it. She figured if she pulled this item out she could find the pill bottle better, so she yanked it out of the bag and stared at it.

Why?

Why was her candy striper outfit in his bag?

He must have taken it from her room before they left. Santana didn't know how to respond to this at first but then smirked and put it on; of course it fit her as it did when she wore it. The number fit her waist and breasts snugly and at her hips flared out thanks to the petticoat underneath it. She even found the stockings in the bag. Damn pervert. She still brought in the aspirins and water.

"You want the Aleve right?"

Sebastian looked up and seemed to immediately look down; obviously trying not to look guilty.

"Uh, yep, that's the one I was talking about." She sashayed over and exaggeratedly set the cup and pills on the nightstand; bending as she did so.

"Smythe, I know your ass is guilty. Why did I find this in your overnight bag?"

"Huh?"

"An unintelligible response from you? You are so busted, but you know what? I will forgive it if you let me take you out for once. Tomorrow…" He looked at her finally, sure that her image would be forever burned into his mind. Was she really going to let him off the hook that easily? And tomorrow was New Years Eve.

"Okay. Just no going Lima Heights on me because I can't take that right now." He reached for the pills but was still watching her.

"If you weren't so catty, you could easily pass for a straight guy. I know my boobs are fantastic but I'm really wondering if you are one of those guys that are just acting." She said raising an eyebrow and crossing her legs, drawing his eye there for the briefest of moments.

"Excuse you Lopez. You should stop talking, I'm beginning to thing you like the sound of your own voice." He said behind his paper cup, awkwardly trying to drink lying down on his stomach.

"Well because it's the voice of an angel."

"More like a Harpy." He said snorting as she seemed offended.

"Fuck you."

"You wish. I've seen the way you stare at my crotch and you want this."

"That jetlag has you delusional." It was then her turn to snort. He smiled rolling over on his back once he put the cup down and she smiled back rolling her eyes.

"Is it weird that we haven't done this in days?" He slowly said almost as if he was trying to recall.

"Maybe we are growing on each other." They both shuddered.

"Like mold." They said in unison. She made a face of disgust and went to stand.

"Whatever, I'm going to take a nap, I'm feeling the lag."

"Hope you die alone."

"Your ass is mine tomorrow night." She said not even passing him a second glance as she walked out and he got a glimpse of her walking away, and it was a sight he liked.

* * *

"Turn here." He did as she instructed and pulled into a parking lot. Traffic was horrible but only because everyone was out on New Year's Eve. He looked at a bar he'd never been and walking inside he almost turned to walk out.

A karaoke bar. Santana had a grip on him and led him to a booth, he couldn't leave or she was sure to tackle him to the ground.

"You don't expect me to do this do you? You aren't going to make me sing or anything are you?" He said looking at her with a pleading look.

"Yes. Come on Sebastian, music is your lifeline. You need this!" The Cheerleader gestured to the stage. "And besides… you fucking OWE me… or I will be on your ass like a loan shark."

Sebastian, of course, wasn't exactly thrilled to do this, he hadn't sung since his condition worsened. He gave all of it up, he wasn't sure if he even could anymore. "Fine."

Santana smiled and got up walked over to put a song in. He looked around before noticing that she took her place at the microphone. She looked pretty nice in a black and white dress.

_When will I see you again?_

_You left with no goodbye_

_Not a single word was said_

_No final kiss to seal any seams_

_I had no idea of the state we were in_

_I know I have a fickle heart and bitterness_

_And a wandering eye, and a heaviness in my head_

_But don't you remember?_

_Don't you remember?_

_The reason you loved me before_

_Baby, please remember me once more_

He felt himself drawn into the sadness of the song, and he knew that Brittany never really left her mind. The glances at her phone, her checking of her emails and Skype; it all seemed to make sense. Why did he feel sad about that? Knowing that her love seemed unwavering filled him with jealousy.

_When was the last time you thought of me?_

_Or have you completely erased me from your memory?_

_I often think about where I went wrong_

_The more I do, the less I know_

She was always hurting; Santana was a bitch but even he knew deep down she was a loving caring person behind that façade she hid behind. He sighed and thumbed through book as she was singing. He found a song he wanted and went up to request to do it. He returned to his seat as Santana was finishing up her song and returned to sit.

"Harpy voice?" She asked and seemed a bit drained emotionally from that little bit.

"Harpy voice." He confirmed and reached over to put a hand over hers, his stomach knotting with way to many confusing emotions. "That was about Brittany?"

"Go ahead; make fun of me if you want." She said almost ashamed.

"I wish she could have been here to hear it." He sighed, was it too late to take that song back? They called his name about 3 singers before him and he got up and made the long walk; it almost felt like he was walking the plank or even the death row walk to the electric chair. When he reached the microphone, he stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on the heels of his feet.

_I'm gonna love you_

_When our time is right_

_Be thinking of you_

_Every day and every night_

_To think you're somewhere in this world_

_And someday I will make you my wife_

_So everyday we're not together_

_I hope you know that you'll be alright_

He didn't sound too bad; he was able to get confidence enough to take his hands out of his pockets and gripped the microphone as his eyes landed on Santana. She was intently watching him with a small smile.

_Cause I_

_I'm gonna make you feel like you're the only girl in the world_

_Like you're the only one that I'll ever love_

_Like you're the only one who knows my heart_

_Oh, like you're the only one that's in command_

_Cause you're the only one who understands_

_How to make me feel like a man_

He needed her to hear him out. Half of him prayed that she would get it and understand that he was singing to her. Santana deserved more than heartbreak and crying herself to sleep. Sebastian wasn't sure if he could give her that but he wanted to.

_And when you're lonely_

_I'll keep you company_

_Like this world was only made for you and me_

_And when it doesn't feel right with another_

_I hope you believe_

_That in a world with no light_

_I will be all that you need to see_

_I'm gonna make you feel_

_Like you're the only girl in the world_

_Like you're the only one that I'll ever love_

_Like you're the only one that knows my heart_

_Oh, like you're the only one that's in command_

_Cause you're the only one who understands_

_How to make me feel like a man_

He closed his eyes reminiscing to them holding hands, the night they spent in the dark, the intense kiss they shared. If he said he didn't feel anything he'd be lying. He wasn't used to showing the raw parts of himself and here he was; exposed. He opened his eyes to see her face and she seemed to be hanging on each note; speechless.

He finished the song and people were clapping, they seemed unaware that while he sang it was just them in the room. They put the karaoke on hold because it was minutes from the ball drop. He approached her and sat down.

"See?" She said finally finding words. "You still got it. I knew you'd nail it."

"I felt like I was going to pass out there." He said with a short laugh but he honestly meant that. He was still shaking from the nerves… or it could have been his condition. He looked up to see they were just counting down.

"Thanks for bringing me here. I did need that."

***5***

"No problem. I think you need to keep at singing and dancing. Don't ever give up." She said tilting her head. "You got dreams, follow them."

***4***

***3***

"That song…" He started, and she stopped him with a nod.

"I know, you don't have to say anything."

***2***

***1***

He could hear the bar patrons shouting but he was looking at Santana, who seemed like she had something she wanted to say.

"Fuck it… Happy New Year." And she took his face in her hands leaned over the table until her lips met his.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't forget… it's just classes started and I can't post as fast as I started out. Ah well, I'm sort of happy with this chapter it opens up a lot for the next few chapters. Adele's "Don't You Remember" and Alex Goot's "Only Girl (In the World)" we a good choice I think.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I do not own **Glee** or its characters. **Glee** is produced by** Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Dante Di Loreto, Ian Brennan, 20th Century Fox Television, and Fox.** I do not own any of the musical lyrics, song titles that may appear in this fan fiction.

**A/N: ****WARNING**** There is a sex scene in this chapter, I doubt you all care but I thought I'd give some of you the option to skip it… for it's kind of long and a little bit detailed but I will add little O's where it starts and ends if you are so included to skip it. **

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

After a night of singing at the bar and sharing a kiss when the ball dropped, Sebastian drove them back to his place. Seemed as though she weren't in a rush to go back to her apartment seeing that his condo was lush and about forty times more comfortable. Of course he didn't mind that she stayed over, they shared a hotel room for a few days, and he even woke up to spooning her.

What he did mind was the silence that seemed to follow in the car and in the corner of his eyes he could see her chewing her bottom lip looking out of the window. At first he thought she might have been tired but after spending so much time with the fiery tempered Santana he knew better. She was antsy about something…

Maybe she wasn't sure about the kiss? He wasn't exactly sure what was bothering her but he didn't want to ask, insecurity and the fear of rejection filled him to the brim.

Sure the man could dish out the harsh-browns but he couldn't take them himself.

They returned to his home and she was the first one out of the car and at the door. Now there was something wrong.

He walked in after opening the door for her and found her in the foyer watching him, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn't form the words quite yet.

"Is something wrong?" He returned her gaze with a queer expression.

"It's hard to describe," She make small strides towards him. "So that song was really about me?"

"In a way, it was." No he felt that he had to own up to it. "Yeah, it was."

"You're gay." She said moving closer and he could feel the knot in his throat form but he managed to force it down.

"Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you." He said with a smile, he had not said that in so long.

"I'm not into guys."

"I'm not into girls," He was then looking down into honey brown eyes when she stopped in front of her. "But I know how I feel. Nothing like this has happened to me before." He was entranced by her gaze and when she blinked he enjoyed her long lashes sweeping her cheeks.

Her hands reached out and wrapped around his neck, leaning him down so his lips were flush against his. This kiss was slow and longer than the previous, her tongue brushing against his lips and he yielded.

He knew that she didn't really care for him the way he cared about her but that was okay. She needed a balm, something to ease the pain of her break up but he wasn't put off by that. He felt his eyes close and her body against his; warm and soft. The silky material of her blue dress sliding against the tips of his fingers as his arms encircled her.

Santana needed the void filled, needed to feel that someone cared about her. This desire was impulsive and often caused her a lot of heartache but she fell into old habit at times, she was only human. She pulled away to look at him again, looking into the depths of his eyes. Lust and small traces of green, the brown rings of his irises made the crisp color even more striking.

"Come with me." He said, almost whispering, he found his voice as well as her hand. Sebastian half expected her to be put off by this proposal, but her lips turned up a small smile and she let him lead her up the stairs.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The space between the top stair and his bedroom door seemed too long, at least that's what he thought as he closed the door behind them and threaded his fingers into the long black curls as his lips devoured hers.

Santana moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped beneath his shirt, tracing the muscle there. He felt dizzy, but whether it was from his illness or from the heady feelings she was stirring within him, he was not certain. She yanked the article over his head and tossed it to the side as he was kissing down her neck and unzipping her dress. This seemed a bit fast but neither of them was a stranger to this kind of desperate need.

The blue article pooled around her feet and she stepped out of it, laying back on the bed with her lips flushed and parted; her hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She looked good this way, surprisingly he wasn't repulsed by the female form… or at least not hers; he was more than definitely aroused by the sight before him.

He threw away most of his regrets when he slipped off his pants and socks, and joined her on the plush comforter going in for another kiss, but this one traveled from her chin down her neck. Santana's hands were running up his sides stimulating him in ways that made him shiver. His hands slipped under her and worked off the clasps of her bra and he removed it from her, but didn't pause too long, he attacked her flesh with teeth and tongue. His tongue traced a path over the top of her breast to the dark dusky nipple. The moment that his mouth touched it, she sucked in a breath.

"God stop teasing me," Her words came out in soft pants. "These panties better come off in the next ten seconds or I'm going to flip us over."

"Not one for foreplay?" He mumbled as he moved to her stomach, planting kisses and finding that underneath her soft skin she had muscles. Her whole body was taut, drawn so tight she could snap like a rubber band.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that… I got Splash Mountain in my drawers."

He stopped and laughed with his forehead against her belly. Typical Santana, cracking jokes and it took him a little bit to compose himself.

"Just let me do what I do, Satan." He smirked and yanked her panties off and knelt between her legs, his head inches away from her. He suddenly felt nervous and jittery with being this close to a woman. He spread her nether lips apart and nudged the sensitive bud with his tongue. She cursed softly and he immediately assumed that what he did wasn't bad or wrong, and the taste wasn't bad at all, he had psyched himself up for it to be worse than what it was. With even more confidence he ran the appendage and stroked with the tip before sucking on the nub.

Santana thrashed a little bit and he could have smirked but wasn't physically able at the moment. Whatever he was doing made her press her thighs against either side of his head, and it encouraged him to slide in a digit. The feisty Diva was tight around his finger as he curled it inside her stroking nerves that made her legs quiver and shake.

"No… that's enough." She said giving his hair a little tug. Sebastian took the hint and withdrew his tongue and finger from her quivering sex. He slid back up her body planting wet kisses on the sweep between her neck and her shoulder, his harden member brushing the inside of her thigh. She used the time to regain her composure before doing something that took him completely by surprise.

Santana wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, their hips flush, and his manhood aimed and hit its target. He slipped inside her with a loud groan as she looked up at him with a small smug grin. He paused for a moment, he couldn't help but to savor the warmth that seemed to spread through him. She was so warm and wet, it was unprecedented, being inside the very thing he thought he was repulsed by, and feeling profound pleasure from it.

"Looks like you got a lot going on up there." She said breaking him from his thoughts. "You can move, you know."

He growled softly, the sound almost primitive. "Be quiet for a second will you? Fuck." His hips pulled back and then pushed into her again, drawing out a soft sound of pleasure from her. He unwrapped her legs from his form and angled her hips as he dove into her, he wasn't being particularly gentle with her and that's not what she wanted him.

The sounds filled the room, both vocally communicating it in the erotic way that lovers did, though Santana was the louder of the two. He looked beneath him to the scene laid out before him; her body taunt and gripping the sheets as she both cursed and praised him.

He felt himself nearing completion and wanted to see her following him into it. He reached down and thumbed the small little bud of pleasure with his thumb (he couldn't remember where he got that from… maybe from Hunter, who needed to not tell him things about his affairs anymore… though part of him was thanking him) and she was wailing and rolling her hips back into his.

"Santana, come for me… I want to see you and hear you…" He panted and tried to hold out for her. She tightened around him as her mouth fell open in a silent cry. Sebastian could no longer hold back and came, a low groan as each burst left him and into her.

Both were relieved and sated.

They _**needed **_this.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

'Santana Lopez, what are you doing with your life?' She thought once Sebastian fell into a sleep. What she had with Sebastian was incredible mind shattering sex but now she almost felt… shame.

She spent most of her high school years denying who she was and trying to hide it from the world only to take five steps backward into the closet… with a gay man. Not only did she push Seb onto her personal sinking Titanic that she called her sexual identity but she felt all the pain she went through, the tears were for nothing.

She needed to leave, clear her head and think about this and pick up all the pieces.

Slipping out of bed was fairly easy to do without waking him, he was out like a light and sleeping peacefully. She found her clothes and put them on as quietly as she could without too much rustling. As she stepped into her shoes, she cast one look at Sebastian; his hand beneath his head and the other on his stomach, the blanket not really hiding much of him besides below the waist… even his feet were sticking out from beneath the blanket.

Sebastian sleeping was when he was at his most innocent but the sight was almost as tempting as an unguarded candy bar.

She shook her head and snuck out of his room and into the guest room to collect her things. All the while she couldn't help but to think about what he'd think when he awoke to an empty bed, knowing she ran from her problems, regressing back to the way she was before. That didn't stop her from leaving his condo and calling a cap back to hers.

Santana needed her fucking space and she needed to get away from him for a little while.

* * *

When Sebastian woke up a few hours later he found that she was gone. At first he wasn't concerned, maybe she went to the bathroom or was downstairs. After sitting in his bed for a few seconds, he ran his hand over his face and listened. No water running, no clanging of pots, or routine Santana rummaging. The house was too quiet, she wasn't there.

He reached off the bed for his pants and fumbled through the pockets for his phone.

**Sebastian: Satan, where did you go off too?**

He waited for some time and no answer from her, then he called. Maybe he went too far. She didn't answer her phone either, it seemed to instantly go to voicemail almost as if she were deliberately ignoring his calls.

He sighed decided to take a shower. A night with Santana, he wasn't sure if it was the right thing but damn did it feel right and good. He still found himself wanting to label himself, he tried to imagine himself with celebrity women, women that were attractive on an unearthly plane and he found it did nothing for him, it didn't affect him in anyway. He supposed it was because he had some feelings for her, he was attracted to the person she was, not just her anatomy.

He pulled the towel around his waist once he finished bathing himself and went to check his phone once again.

**1 New Message**

**Santana: I think we should just not see each other for a little while.**

He nearly dropped the phone on the bed.

What was he to say to that? He didn't know. He set his phone down and sat on the bed thinking for a little while.

Maybe she was right. He combed his fingers through his hair and released a heaving sigh and told himself.

What they did was a mistake, as he said before she needed him to temporarily fill the void.

**A/N**: Yup… feel free to hate me now? I'm more surprised I didn't use a single obscene word though, I've played it safe. Honestly the mildest sex scene I've ever written. I started this when I got a new computer earlier this month but my creative writing class has a lot of demands that take up my time… that and this was probably the hardest chapter to write. I've never wrote a lemon/sex scene with characters that were not my own and I really tried to stay true to the characters in how I'd feel they'd react. Let me know how I did?

Also people keep asking me to continue Koi Shiyo. I have not abandoned that one yet… I just get caught up in this story sometimes because I have a lot of fuel, I got Glee, fanvids, other fics, pictures, FUCKING TUMBLR. God bless you tumblr for all the Sebtana feels I get. But with Koi Shiyo, I don't have much motivation and inspiration. I do have things planned for it and I will be doing a chapter for it soon.


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